George rested the mop against his brow and fought back his gag reflex. It was, and always had been, his worst fear that one day he would be forced to do a job that had bad smells attached to it. Now, here he was, cleaning the toilets in a school and wishing that the children who attended were not such animals. Why did they feel the need to block the toilets, piss on the floors, smoke and vomit and whatever else they got up to in here? Surely the majority of them were horrified by the state of the first floor toilets for both genders when they came to use them?

In most cases the majority would and did make sure that the minority were aptly punished for standing out. Goth kids were beaten for being ‘spooky’, sporting failures were ridiculed for not being able to catch a ball. Why was it that the ones with no respect for their private spaces, who created this stink and mess, were not equally punished? George certainly knew what he wanted to do to them, but he also wanted to keep his job, even with the smell.

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